My brain is bubble gum. Original flavor.

Earlier tonight Mojo told me that my brain was just made of a gazillionty pieces of ABC bubble gum.

She says, "you know, the kind that tastes like bubble gum?"

"As opposed to what? The kind that doesn't taste like bubble gum?"

"OMG Mom, duh, the kind that doesn't taste like bubble gum is all gross like cotton candy or watermelon." (now go back and read that sentence as if an 8 year old valley girl was saying it to you with her hand on her hip and a little sass in her tone) She said with her nose all puckered up like something smelled bad.

So, that's my brain. ABC gum. Lots of it. That explains a lot. Really, if that were true the last few years would be totally explainable and maybe even normal. Except the cancer part, that's not very normal. But the rest could be. You know me well enough and you know exactly what I'm talking about. If you happen to also be on my late night, not entirely coherent, text circuit... well, you are just lucky. It's a treat. And, you know exactly how much fun it is to crawl inside this head and jump around in it, like a bounce house. There's a lot of hot air, some weird mesh fabric to keep things in and other things out, some duct tape patching up a few holes, and a few turrets because those houses are always shaped like sad little castles.

Today was a day worth forgetting until about 4:30pm. In fact, I really don't remember much of what happened today except for an "I love you" text that I totally needed when it came in because there could have been no better time to be reminded of that than that very moment. And, oh, my most favorite developer of all time ever quit today. But, around 4:30, after I had given some blood for more testing, eaten a digestive biscuit (my oncologist keeps HobNobs in his desk) and then vomited that precious biscuit in to my very own tiny little bucket, my doctor handed me a 44oz Diet Coke with pebble ice. And, then, he told me that I wasn't crazy because he knew crazy and it was in the form of a Polly Pocket sized, spray tanned orange, platinum blonde extension wearing, woman who had visited him an hour before with a stack of literature that she'd printed off of some online resource. In that stack she believed that she could prove that all of her symptoms would lead him to believe that she had leukemia.

After a full exam and some very quick tests he was able to tell her that she had some odd things in her blood stream and asked her if she had implants. Apparently in a very short amount of time he was able to narrow her symptoms down to toxic shock and was able to locate a leak in one of her giant implants.

Based on his play by play, this was her reaction:

"That's not possible, I went to the very best plastic surgeon in Las Vegas for these. I probably should have someone with more experience with this tell me exactly what this is."

And, this was his:

"I can assure you that there are few doctors in the state that have seen as many leaky implants as I have.   You have a leak. It is compromising your blood. If you don't take care of this now it will get worse and lead to any number of problems."

Her answer:

"Can't you just patch it?"

Yes, she won the booby prize for the day. I got the giant Diet Coke and confirmation that my brain is made of bubble gum.

Leaky fake boobs kind of gross me out. Thankfully I had a bucket handy.

W

Some people should be muzzled!

On Sunday's we have family dinner at my parent's house. It's a great way to end the weekend. All the grandkids get together and wear each other out. They run and scream and make a mess of my mom's overly clean house. We love it. Most of our kids are more connected to my parents than their other grandparents. In fact, most of the other grandparents are completely crazy.

I don't mean a little nutty and odd, I mean that we could check any of them in to a mental institution at any minute and they'd fit right in. Like my kids other grandmother who never leaves the house except to go to the grocery store and the liquor store and who wears those fuzzy socks with the non-skid bits on the bottom (like the ones you buy for babies) and old lady flesh colored sandals. Nastay! There is also my oldest sister's mother in law who lives in Bev Hills, chases very well known married politicians, and wears tape on her face to make sure she doesn't purse her lips or scowl to avoid wrinkles. (it's not and has never worked. her wrinkles are terrifying.) CRAZIES.

My grandmother shows up at this dinner every Sunday. No fail. It's a free meal. And, she lives in a place where she has now offended every other resident and no one will speak to her, or invite her to do anything. And, really, she does nothing anyway. She stayed with my parents for a few months a few years ago after having heart surgery and left a stain on my mother's sofa. She sat in the same place all day every day watching game shows and The View. From this comfy perch she was able to also view and comment on my mother's cleaning habits, and yell at any and all children who came in to the house for no reason whatsoever. She is, perhaps, the most unhappy and unkind woman on the planet. And, she has spent the last twenty years of her life making sure that everyone around her knew that. She has been beyond offensive to all of the children in my family and my parents my entire life. She has also given us many many reasons to laugh. I know, I'm horrible, but on days when she is especially nasty to us or to our children, it is incredibly gratifying to have her walk out of the house and out to her car with her dress caught way up in her pantyhose. It's mean. I know. But, payback's a bitch. (you can judge me, i'll get over it... i've been tortured by her my whole life)

The purpose of this rant/vent is really to say that I don't understand people who do not know that being cruel to children for any reason is unforgivable. This past Sunday after dinner and in a place out of the earshot of most parents my grandmother cornered my 1o year old niece and asked her why she was so pudgy when all of her cousins were so thin.

My niece is adorably round. She's like a character from Lilo and Stitch. All soft rounded lines. She is a competitive swimmer and an outstanding student and friend. She has noticed her differences and commented on them privately. But, she has a mother that knows exactly how she feels. My little sister, her mother, was just like her. Always a little rounder and rosier than her friends. But as an adult she has always been quite thin and fit. She grew out of her soft edges and so will her daughter.

I have never had patience for my grandmother's lack of tact or feeling. Generally when she pulls this kind of crap with the kids or any of my siblings, I'm the one that tells her that it is not only unkind but inappropriate. I wanted to call her and tell her that she's not allowed to talk to any of these kids of ours unless it is to tell them that they look fabulous, and that they are wonderful and talented and perfect in every way. The kids avoid her. She has never developed a relationship with any of them. It is a very sad thing. They are all remarkable and funny and wonderful in their own way and they totally love each other. Our children deserve so much better.

She's 85 this weekend. Maybe I'll give her one or many of the lovely gifts she's given me throughout the years. Like a bottle of Seabreeze, that hideous smelling astringent that burns the top layer of skin off your face every time you use it. I think she stopped giving those to me when my mom told her that Seabreeze melted our contacts. Or, a crocheted belt made with rainbow colored yarn with glitter in it. Or, a Whitman sampler. You know, the box of toothpaste and rock filled chocolates. Yummy. We often fed them to the cats. Or, on a good year we'd remember to wrap them back up and give them back to her for Mother's Day, Easter, Christmas, and her Birthday. We were horrible children... but wickedly funny.

I didn't call her and tell her what a big huge jerk she was for calling my niece pudgy and making her cry. I was a candyass about it. But, it's highly possible that I'll give her a little shit this weekend. I just need to get in the mood. And, so far, this week has been kind of awesome. Except for work, but who cares about that. And, except for friends having work woes and crappy asshat partners and the like. There's bound to be some big hiccup though. Only gave my asshat half of his ass today. Need to do the rest before the week is out.

Do they make muzzles for people? (and i'm not talking about the s&m ones... in this post anyway)